


The Ambassador

by snitchnipped



Series: Dichotomy [6]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M, Golden Age (Narnia), Romance, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2332118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snitchnipped/pseuds/snitchnipped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.”—Marcus Aurelius.  The delicate nature of the friendship between the Queen and the Knight.  Written for the 2014 Narnia Fic Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ambassador

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guardyanangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardyanangel/gifts).



> Many, many, many thanks to winged_flight, my beta reader, and snacky for once again pulling off a wonderful NFE!
> 
> This is part of the Dichotomy Universe, but can be read as a standalone.

“Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.”—Marcus Aurelius

* * *

**Queens’ Study, Cair Paravel, Narnia. Secondweek April, 1012.**

“Oh!” Susan exclaimed as she stopped just inside the threshold to the Queens’ Study. Despite the room’s name, the small, intimate chambers were used equally by all four siblings. Though diminutive in comparison to the Kings’ Study, the coziness and intimacy was the preferred meeting room of all the siblings—its smaller stature was not considered a slight by Susan at all.

“Here I thought I was on the rather early side, even for me.”

“You are,” Peter replied with a smile. “Yet you still are last to arrive. I’ve just gotten word that Edmund’s Patrol has decided to stay out a few more weeks. And Lucy chose to retire early for the evening. The voyage wore her out more than she thought it would.”

Susan nodded. She knew how exhausting sea voyages were, even just the short inaugural jaunt of the Splendour Hyaline to Calormen and back.

“She best find her sea legs soon if she plans on spending the next few years exploring the high seas, as she keeps telling us,” Susan replied as she took a seat next to her brother at the table. His place was already cluttered with stacks of papers, a half eaten tray of bread and cheese, a wine bottle and pewter goblets, and a suspicious box wrapped in oilcloth and tied tightly in twine.

“Apparently, it was the excitement itself that exhausted her,” Peter said. He uncorked the bottle of wine and set to pouring two goblets. “Tumnus said they had to pry her away from the railing in order for her to get some sleep. But here,” Peter said, pushing a goblet towards Susan. “She did come bearing gifts.”

Susan picked it up and gave its contents a swirl. After an appreciative sniff, she took a sip and felt her face dissolve a into relaxed smile. “Lucy is far too young to be able to make such informed viticultural choices.”

Peter laughed. “Hardly. I'd say it's dumb luck. She can’t tolerate much more than a Velstangian white.” He recorked the bottle and pushed the wrapped package towards her.

She set her wine down. “And what is this?”

Peter watched her unwrap the parcel, which was indeed not a box at all. Just as she folded the last bit of oilcloth back to reveal the large book’s cover, he said, “It’s finally done.”

“It appears so,” she murmured as she splayed the palm of her hand over the embossed design on the polished leather cover.

“Months before schedule, too,” Peter said. “I know we hoped to reveal it at Christmas, but perhaps we could do something in late spring instead to celebrate. An unveiling party. Lucy would love that.”

Susan stared numbly for a moment before she opened the cover to the title page:

_The Book of the New Narnian Monarchy_

The peculiarities of their Tetrarchy had caused some issues when it came down to first drafting the Book six years ago in Anvard with the help of King Lune and his advisers. Firstly, the Narnia they inherited was a blank slate. And Susan and her siblings had been so incredibly young— _they still were_ —and had been very appreciative of what Archenland had to offer: a treasure trove of nearly 700 years of documented history of that nation and even some of what had been lost from Old Narnia during that bleak time of the Long Winter. Archenland, after all, had been founded by the descendants of King Frank and Queen Helen, the original monarchs of Narnia.

And Archenland thrived to this day. Who better to guide them as they founded the New Narnia? There was a desperate need, from both her family and all of Narnia, to establish rule and order to end such unstable and uncertain times.

And so with equal parts innocence and eagerness, they spent a very long six weeks—more so for Edmund and Lucy who were entirely too young for such matters—pouring over the old histories of both countries, listening to educated and experienced political, law, and social-economic advisors and consulting extensively with King Lune himself.

And thus came about the Book.

Peter continued as she began to leaf through its newly-illustrated contents. “It’s a timely blessing, for we do have some troubling news from Calormen. You remember that we offered Tumnus the position of being the first Narnian Ambassador to Calormen.”

“Of course,” Susan muttered.

“Well, Tumnus has decided not to accept.”

“What? But I thought it was pretty much set in stone.”

“I thought as much, too.”

“That’s a shame—I know Tumnus wanted to serve and he’s fantastic in that capacity.”

“‘Fantastic’ is the key word, I’m afraid. They barely tolerated his presence. Tumnus thought it was in our best interests if we found someone new.” Peter took a sip of the wine, and choked down a swallow. “And human.”

Susan pushed the goblet away from her in disgust. “Politics are rather unfair.”

“I agree.”

“We have so few advisors as it is. And even fewer humans…”

“Narnia’s growing. And as we push farther in the North and, with the help of the Hyaline, we can garner more support both outside and within Narnia.”

“What does this mean for our planned state visit to Tashbaan this summer?” Susan’s brow furrowed. “We should probably postpone until things are more settled between us.”

“I think that’s the right course of action,” Peter said before taking another drink.

Susan knew that the Tisroc would not be happy with this change of plans, and felt slightly guilty for having had made a promise for an extensive visit before Narnia was even fully prepared for all that entailed.

“Perhaps this is for the best, Su. I know it’s high time we have more formal relations with the Calormenes. As it were, we had been shuttling Tumnus back and forth for a long time. It won’t hurt to take just a little more time to find the perfect replacement, someone acceptable from both sides of the negotiation table.”

Susan gave him a short hum in reply before continuing her rifling of the thick volume. The thumb on her left hand stilled when a beautiful image caught her attention, and she fully opened the book to get a closer look.

The entire right margin of the page was composed of a tall, luscious tree. Its leaves were colored in two shades of green with the occasional gold-leafed one interspersed here and there, along with a sprinkling of ripe red fruits. Underneath the canopy sat a beautiful woman, her legs tucked under a blue gown and her long sable hair draped over one shoulder and down to her waist. Her face was a near exaggeration of beauty, with eyes as blue as the garment the woman was wearing. In the lady’s lap, her hands tenderly cradled one of the fruits.

Susan was no fool. She knew who the woman was supposed to be. Her eyes drifted to the words trailing down the page and was not surprised in the least of what section she had unintentionally turned to. On this page in particular, what had made perfectly good sense when explained to them back then, now gave Susan serious misgivings.

Susan felt her stomach drop as she began to read:

_XIV. On Lineage and Succession_

_1\. Let it be known that, under direct order of the The Great Lion Aslan, Narnia shall be ruled by none other but Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve._

_2\. It shall henceforth be that within the New Narnian Dynast, the Firstborn of the Founding Four, be it from either High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, or Queen Lucy, shall have preference in Royal Succession._

_3\. To insure the prosperity of the New Narnian Dynast, the Founding Four, along with the first Three Generations of the Founding Four’s Descendants, shall only marry Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve within the Noble Classes (as indicated in X.3) from Narnian Provinces and other recognized nations (As indicated in IX.6)._

At the tender age of sixteen, Susan had had no idea how restrictive her life would become. How just a handful of lines, though now presented beautifully before her, put her in a damning chokehold.

Since then, it had become general acceptance— _general annoyance_ —that whenever Queen Susan leaves the Narnian borders, it is under the lone belief that she is looking for a husband. Even when her actual intentions of a visit are made clear, foreign courtiers would sweep in for the opportunity to try for Susan's hand—to the point of complete distraction and detriment to her actual cause. It was becoming cumbersome and disheartening for her, and she despised it.

But six years ago, it had just been words on a page. The first draft of the Book had been written in the halls of Anvard in 1006 where, just a few drafts later, the young, naive monarchs had held a ceremony led by King Lune. And on that day they swore to Aslan to uphold and honor what the _The Book of the New Narnian Monarchy_ lay forth.

Indeed, Aslan had even made an appearance, standing in the back of Anvard’s Royal Hall to the unawareness of the hundreds attending. Susan shuddered, remembering how the force of His piercing gaze had felt upon her that fateful day.

She never did ask if her brothers or sister had seen Him, too.

“What do you say, Su?” Peter gave a nod at the tome in her hands. “Shall we have Lucy start the preparations for the grand unveiling of the Book?”

Susan closed the book and ran her hand down the beautiful cover. “Yes, we may as well,” she said with a barely noticeable sigh.

* * *

**Grand Hall, Cair Paravel, Narnia. Secondweek May, 1012.**

Peridan stood transfixed, unable to move far from his chosen observation point. It was a strictly strategical position; being towards the front of the Grand Hall—or rather the back of it, as the front entrance to the Cair proved the center stage of the grand spectacle tonight—allowed him a prime view. The Book had been placed on the front steps leading up to the grand wooden doors, where people and Beasts of all shapes and sizes could see. Now that the day’s presentation and receiving line were over, the Book had been moved just inside the door, and the dwindling crowd—though far from small, for the Grand Hall was still rather packed—had all moved inside as the sun made its descent behind the western forest, the moon having taken its place.

There really was no need for him to stand between the small orchestra of folk musicians and the rather tall plant (or short, potted tree). The guard he was standing next to, in his splendid summer livery, had things well under control. That being said, the young man was successful in hiding his disappointment in having to leave of the party to take up his shift. Peridan had given him a nudge earlier which made the guard’s back stiffen properly for all of three minutes before dropping into a wistful stance. Peridan didn’t bother again, though—it was a party, after all. And a Narnian one at that.

But Peridan did have the perfect vantage point, being slightly raised on the first curved marble step leading up to the thrones, out of the way of the musicians and the foliage and most of the crowd, yet still a perfect view of the dancing.

And of her.

After a prompt from some of the nymphs, Peridan had watched the Cranes take center stage of the Grand Hall. The Queen Lucy, seeing the graceful white and grey Birds get into a circular formation, had weaved her way to the musicians and whispered into the harpist’s ear. She then had weaved back to get in position next to her sister, who had joined the Cranes in the circle.

And now, with a nod from the younger Queen, the musicians began the music in three-four time, and the Birds and the Queens began to dance.

Peridan paid no heed to Lucy’s laughter over her sister’s first few missteps. He only noticed the blush that flushed the Queen Susan’s cheeks as she quickly caught on, moving in and out of the circle with her bare arms stretched out. The beauty and grace of Susan came off in a rush of waves, hitting him straight in his solar plexus.

He reveled in it. And for that, he hated himself.

“Peridan!”

His head snapped to where he heard the rather rude call had come frome. Not surprisingly, the culprit was Ferrin, his comrade-in-arms from Edmund’s Patrol, waving a wineskin over his head in offering. Peridan shook his head, declining in joining Ferrin and the other soldiers across the room. He had already partaken in enough spirits for this evening and did not want to be roped into anything foolish his friends were notorious for doing. He was not up to such antics tonight.

Having been discovered, though, and not wanting to appear completely anti-social, he decided to make his way to the back—or, the front, rather—where King Peter and a few other members of the Council stood by the Book. With a nod to the sullen guard, who at least still had it in him to offer Peridan a proper salute, he began the long trek through the crowd.

Of course, by chance or divine providence from Aslan Himself, the moment he tried to squeeze around the dance circle, Susan had completed half the circumference and was currently on the side he was. Her pale, diaphanous gown floated around her as she turned in spot, one arm reaching high, one straight leg angled out and sweeping straight towards his shin.

“ _Oof!_ ” Susan cried, as Peridan reached for her to keep either of them from tripping and falling.

Peridan’s fingers burned though they were frozen in place, wrapped around her waist. “My apologies, my Queen!”

“Nonsense,” she said, beaming up at him before raising her arm again.

He hastily stepped back from the accidental intimate moment, regretting having to let her go. As it were, a Crane had to hop over Peridan’s foot with a flutter of wings as he took over the place of the Queen’s previous position.

He watched for a moment as Susan, with one last glance over her shoulder at him and her eyes twinkling in mirth and merriment, caught up in the formation and resumed dancing,

Peridan’s heart had never failed him before. Instead of becoming the poor orchard farmer in Archenland like his father before him, he had trusted his heart when it prompted him to leave Archenland. His heart had also led him to Narnia, to join the Army, and stay beyond the required years of new immigrants. And it had led him to become a Knight in that Narnian Army, assuming more and more leadership roles. But that same heart was failing him now, nearly beating straight out of his chest as he watched Queen Susan's slippered toes mimic the prance and dance of the Cranes.

Peridan knew that this would not do, not anymore. The years of friendship he held with Susan had evolved into something more to him, something beyond his control, but could never be. After all, he had read copies of the Book long before the final gilded version had come to Narnia; knighthood does not a noble make. And he knew Queen Susan was not for him.

Or, rather, he was not for Queen Susan.

Hoping to avoid another altercation in case the dancers made another rotation, Peridan swiftly walked to where King Peter was standing with his small audience. He stood somewhat apart, in the same observational pose he had taken across the room, choosing to remain unengaged with anyone until feeling more settled.

“So he turned the Ambassadorship down completely?” one Galman gentleman asked the High King.

“It doesn’t sound like he had much of a choice,” added Sallowpad the Raven, from one of the many marble Bird perches placed throughout the Hall.

Peter shook his head. “He didn’t, not really.”

“Was he strong-armed into it?” asked another.

“No, I don’t believe so. Tumnus knew when to back down and, as much as I regret the outcome, I do understand. Still, the Calormenes remain frustrated with this delay.”

“But how can they when its their own prejudice that’s the cause!” said the Galman.

“The lack of an Embassy isn’t the only reason, though. I know Tashbaan is unhappy that we had to postpone our planned state visit this summer.”

“Surely they can’t be all that upset, sire,” Sallowpad said. “What’s a few more months delay?”

“True, but our visit had previously already been delayed by more than a few months—it's been over a year. The Queen Susan had made a, well, a promise that we should spend a considerable time in Tashbaan, not unlike what we did several years ago in Archenland and last year on the Islands.”

 _Promise? Bargain, more like it_ , Peridan thought, recalling the particularly tense confrontation with Anradin Tarkaan two years prior in Archenland when Susan had made that pledge.

In a flourish of wings, the dance had changed direction in a fancy step that led to a smattering of “Ahhhs!” from the crowd. Peridan angled himself so as to keep it, at most, in his periphery and not appease his temptation to watch.

“But anyway, preparations have long been underway for our Embassy in Tashbaan,” Peter continued. “Buildings have already been provided for us by the Tisroc, and Tumnus saw to everything he could on his last visit. Though I’m saddened he has turned down the offer, it’s been remarkable how much he’s made up for it.”

“But you are still somewhat left in a lurch,” said one of the new delegates from the Lone Islands.

“Yes. Now that my brother and sisters are not going, and with our pressing needs up in the North, I need to appease the Tisroc and find a replacement Ambassador as soon as possible.”

Sallowpad bobbed his head in agreement. “And then open the Cair’s gates for an embassy of Calormen’s own.”

“Precisely.”

Much to his dismay, Peridan had found that he had shifted his position so the dance was again in his full view, so he witnessed then the queens being urged into the center of the circle. With a trickle of laughter, they pranced in a swish of skirts and delicate footwork while the Cranes continued their journey around them.

Peridan again tried to concentrate on the neighboring conversation.

“What’s the next step then?” asked the Islander.

“We’ll let the word out that we will be accepting nominations and hold a Privy Council meeting this week to discuss our options. Hoping there will be options, that is," Peter added.”

The Galman let out a huff. “As prestigious as it would be, I know I wouldn’t be cut out for an ambassador in Tashbaan, sire.”

“No, I wouldn’t envy them,” the Islander agreed. “Though, yes, very honorable.”

The dance had begun to slow, the dancers more or less swaying in place to the music. Peridan caught sight of the back of Susan’s head, the long lazy curls trailing down her slender back.

He was instantly reminded of the beautiful illustrations of her that he had seen earlier in the Book. To be sure, all four of the Siblings were referenced throughout, but he had paid no mind to anyone else. And the particular image of Queen Susan seated below the tree and cradling the fruit would be a vision to haunt his dreams for years to come.

A Willow wood nymph came around, interrupting his thoughts, and offering refreshments of brandy punch to King Peter and his companions, who all graciously accepted.

“We need someone loyal, someone with a presence,” Peter continued. “Someone who is wise, cunning at some of the times, yet honorable at all. A natural leader who can choose and lead a group of delegates for the next few years as trustworthy representatives of the Narnian Court.”

“Years?” Sallowpad asked. “Someone with not too many ties here in Narnia, then.”

“That, too.”

“Punch, Sir Peridan?” the nymph asked him, holding up her wooden tray of drinks.

Applause kept him from answering right away. Peridan looked over the Willow’s head to watch the Cranes bow. When the Birds walked away from their circle, they revealed the two women who laughed and embraced each other before themselves bowing to the musicians.

Peridan tore his eyes away from Susan and focused on the nymph before him. “Yes, thank you.”

He took a cup of brandy punch from the tray and stepped into King Peter’s conversation. "What exactly does the ambassador position entail, your Majesty?"

* * *

**Eastern Terrace, Cair Paravel, Narnia. Secondweek May, 1012. Cont.**

“There you are!” Susan exclaimed as she walked onto the stony terrace and made her way across to where Sir Peridan was perched on the edge of the low retaining wall. She kicked off her slippers and carefully eased herself down to sit alongside him, her bare feet dangling next to his booted ones. “The dancing picked up again not soon after you left. They were doing Archenlander reels, too,” she said.

Peridan broke his gaze from the dark horizon and looked down at her with soft eyes, but did not respond.

Susan smoothed back a few dark strands of her hair the light breeze had caught and smiled up at him. “I was looking for you to join us, Sir Peridan,” she continued. “As was Lucy. You were the one that taught us your countrymen’s dances, after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he simply offered.

She tossed her head in a light laugh. “Well, there’s no need to apologize. It was getting rather stuffy in there. I don’t blame you for coming out here to escape.”

He smiled in return, but again said nothing.

In the comfortable silence, they both turned to look out where the glow was slowly evolving into an edge of pink along the calm waters of the Bight.

“It’s good to have you back,” Susan said. “With the Patrol sending you to all corners of Narnia and Archenland, you’ve become a rare sight around the Cair.” Perhaps it was her friend’s uncharacteristic silence prompting her to fill the space, for Susan was not usually this chatty. But there was something about Peridan that always set her at ease, that she could always show a side of herself that few knew. “I miss having our talks.”

Peridan nodded. “It has been awhile hasn’t it? Two months.”

“Seven weeks, three days.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “But who is counting?”

“That would be me,” she replied. She crossed her dangling feet at the ankle. “But that’s my duty as Queen. You would be hard pressed to find much that gets by me.”

“With an excellent memory to go along with your secretarial skills,” Peridan murmured.

 _If you only knew_ , Susan thought at the reminder. She shook all sudden thoughts and memories of England and her past out of her mind—such lonely feelings, ones she was unable to share with even her siblings, who did not remember—for they were not welcome on such a festive eve.

“I’m especially good with remembering numbers, in case you didn’t know," she continued. "Were you aware there were three boars, fifteen chickens, and six geese consumed at tonight’s feast?”

Peridan finally broke into a soft chuckle. “I did not, no.”

“Then you’re lucky,” she teased, pleased to have extracted a laugh out of him. “The numbers are never far from my head. If I were to tell you how many fruits and vegetables there were, you would be tempted to take a leap,” she said with a nod to the steep drop before them.

"Hmm."

The slight breeze picked up from off of the ocean, and Susan gathered her shawl closer around her shoulders. The faint tricklings of a lute and flute duet from the Hall danced across the terrace, barely reaching their ears. “Edmund mentioned that he’s thinking the Patrol will head out in the next coming weeks to the North this time. Has he said something to you about that yet?”

He shook his head, but hesitated before speaking. “I'm…It has yet to be decided whether I should go back on Patrol this time. Perhaps the High King needs me elsewhere.”

The prospect of the Patrol being sent out again so soon after having returned saddened her heart. She chose to switch topics to something happier, hoping to lighten his mood. “How is your sister doing? And her family?”

“They are well, thank you for asking,” Peridan said, his warm grey eyes once again meeting hers. “Maren is expecting another child in the Autumn.”

“That’s wonderful news! I’m sure her son will be pleased to have a playmate. Do offer her congratulations on behalf of my family."

“She will be most honored,” he rumbled.

Susan smiled in return and allowed the luscious feeling of fatigue slowly take over her body. She let her eyes close shut for a minute. There would be no duties tomorrow; indulging in a proper lie-in was on the menu. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, and blinked slowly at the sudden emerging of the morning’s brightness. The top most sliver of the sun was already making its way over the glassy waters, casting a brilliant pink that interrupted the ocean’s dark blue swells.

Susan looked up at her companion, noticing his jaw had become stubbled since the party had started. “You’re awfully pensive this evening, Peridan. Or morning, I should say.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Anything in particular on your mind?”

“No,” Peridan started before giving his head a light shake. “Yes, but my own thoughts aren’t even clearly formed. It’s been a long evening.”

“I understand.”

Peridan cleared his throat. “The music has finally stopped.”

She glanced over her shoulder. The Grand Hall was also dimmer, with half the candles having been most likely burned down to waxy stubs. “So it has. Much later than at the Equinox, I should say. At this rate, our Summer Solstice fete should take us clear through teatime.”

Peridan smiled, but his gaze, etched with a tinge of sadness, stayed fixed on the morning sun. Susan felt the urge to comfort whatever was troubling him and eased herself closer to him. When she leaned into his side, Peridan stiffened momentarily before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and bringing her in closer. Letting out a satisfied, tired sigh, she relaxed into his side. She wrapped her own arms around his waist, breathing in the comforting scent of leather and of him, and relishing his warmth and strength in the cool air of the morning.

Susan recognized that theirs was a careful friendship. At times, the tall man intimidated her just by the power of his presence. But at other times, such as now in these shared moments of the early morning, that same presence made Susan find herself inexplicably drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. Though they never spoke of it, Susan knew that there was a bond between herself and Peridan—almost a magnetic attraction of souls. But Susan knew not to allow herself to go down that rabbit hole. So, she didn't.

They continued to sit in the warm comfort of each other's arms for a long while, as the sun finally broke through the barrier of the horizon and the sky above eased into a lighter blue. She began to doze and would have collapsed were it not for his arm around her. When sleep could be avoided no longer, Susan extracted herself from under Peridan’s arm and carefully picked herself up to stand on the wall, the uneven stone cold and hard underneath her bare feet.

“Good night, Peridan. Or day, as it were,” Susan corrected as she leaped down off the wall. “I am going to try for a few hours of shut-eye.”

His head was turned slightly over his shoulder to her but his eyes were cast down. “Sleep well, Susan,” he quietly said.

Following a sudden impulse, Susan reached out to brush back a lock of tawny hair from his temple, and leaned in, placing a lingering kiss on his brow. When she pulled back, she found his eyes tightly closed at the corners—whether in fatigue or pain, she did not know. She didn’t feel it was right to ask, instead gently brushing his hair back once again.

Peridan offered no more words and sat still as stone as she reached for her shoes. With one last fond look over her shoulder towards her friend, Susan made her way across the terrace, through the rapidly dwindling party, and up to her rooms where a blissfully made bed and heavy, light-shielding curtains awaited her.

* * *

**Queens’ Study, Cair Paravel, Narnia. Thirdweek May, 1012.**

Lucy snapped the history tome she was reading shut. “What do you suppose is taking them so long?” she asked with exasperated huff from her armchair by the window.

Susan peered over her embroidery and frowned at Lucy’s treatment of the delicate book. “I know just as much as you do, Lu.”

Lucy unfolded her legs from underneath her skirts and rested her heels in the floor, giving her legs a solid stretch. “Perhaps I should start attending more of these council meetings.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Susan said, tying off a knot and biting off the last bit of green thread.

“You can’t tell me you aren’t just as impatient as I am, Susan. An impromptu Privy Council meeting? I’m surprised you’re not sitting in as well.”

“Precisely because it wasn’t scheduled. I’m taking my own private stand,” Susan said, rethreading her needle with a golden thread. “I wish Peter would stop this habit of calling a last minute meetings when there’s not an emergency involved.”

Lucy snickered at that, but was cut off by the abrupt opening of the door to the Queens’ Study. A Black Dwarf in his summer livery bowed from the threshold before stepping aside to allow their elder brother in, a pensive look on the King’s face as he made his way to his normal chair next to Susan.

“For Aslan’s sake, what took so long, Peter? We’ve been waiting nearly an hour!”

Before Susan could correct her sister, for they had been waiting at the most forty minutes, the sound of raised voices coming from the Grand Hall caught her attention. From her seat, all she could see was her other brother in heated conversation with someone.

“We had a lot to discuss,” Peter said.

“Good things, I hope?”

“Yes. Yes, for once I think we are finally on track, Lu.”

“Oh, that’s a relief!”

Susan ignored them, trying to catch what was happening with Edmund. The argument, or whatever it was, abruptly stopped and she saw Edmund’s head drop in resignation. With a sigh, he nodded to his speaking companion and reached to give him a clap on the shoulder before saying a few parting words and walking away.

Edmund entered and collapsed into the seat opposite her at the table. Susan looked beyond him and was shocked to see Peridan's imposing figure. He was now alone in the Hall, his face unreadable—and he was looking directly at her, his steel eyes piercing down to her soul. Before she could react, the Black Dwarf reached into the room to pull the door closed, but not before she saw Peridan drop his head and start walking away.

“Well,” Edmund said. “That’s done.”

“What’s happened?” Lucy said, sitting up in her chair.

“Good news, girls. Our search for an ambassador to Calormen has ended before it’s even begun,” Peter said with a disbelieving smile.

“What do you mean?” Susan asked at the same time Lucy chimed in with “Oh, who?”

Peter folded his hands on the table. “Sir Peridan has agreed to lead the delegation to Tashbaan and serve as the first Narnian Ambassador.”

Lucy tossed her book onto the side table. “Oh! Oh, that’s splendid!”

“Wait, what? Peridan? H-how?” Susan choked out. “I mean, why him?”

“There’s no one more capable,” Peter explained.

“That, and he volunteered,” Edmund dully added, rubbing at both of his eyes.

Susan’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. “He what? But why would he do such a thing?” she asked. She could hardly keep the shock and dismay out of her voice.

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Perhaps he was thinking that he was an excellent candidate with both experience in the field and in the negotiating rooms, and he knew what a colossal waste it would be to have spent our time and resources searching for alternative candidates. And, really, we could not even ask for anyone better than him.” Peter let out a little snort. “Don’t look a gift horse, Su.”

Susan shook her head. “I-I’m not. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“As am I,” Peter said. “Pleasantly so. Our problem is solved.”

“Hnm,” Edmund grunted, but Susan could not tell if it was in agreement or not. He looked beyond exhausted, complete with dark under-eye circles and slightly disheveled hair.

“But what about the planned nomination rounds?” Lucy asked. “And a vote?”

“Well, we did take a preliminary vote in accepting his candidacy,” Edmund said.

Peter nodded. “And due to the overwhelming response in support, it was suggested and seconded that we should just accept his proposal and have a final vote then and there.”

Susan frowned, willing to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. “But I wasn’t there, and nor was Lucy.”

“And neither was Oreius or the new delegate from Terebinthia who has yet to arrive. The vote ended up unanimous, so really, four missing votes made no difference.” Peter’s brow furrowed. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before, Su.”

Susan knew. She could count a half dozen times it had happened before, everything from deciding on what day to christen the Splendour Hyaline to how many soldiers to send to patrol the Lantern Waste during wintertime, with no repercussion on any of the outcomes.

She turned to Edmund. “You voted for him?” she asked, not bothering to mask the disbelief from her voice.

Edmund shrugged. “It’s a brilliant idea, Su. Had I known he was interested in a career in diplomacy, I would have nominated him myself.” Edmund leaned forward in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, he will be sorely missed by the Patrol. By the whole Narnian Army.”

"By all of Narnia," Lucy agreed. 

Of course, Susan knew Edmund must be upset to be losing one of the key members of his team, not to mention one of his closest friends. She was surprised, though, at how upset she was. She thought back to the other evening at the celebration—Peridan had made no mention of his intentions. But he had said that he did not know where he was next to go. Was that what was weighing heavily on his mind? Why would he not say anything to her? Susan willed herself not to move, though every ounce of her being wanted to flee the room. The idea that one of the few friends she had at the Cair would soon be departing nearly broke her.

“Yes, he is the perfect candidate,” Susan softly agreed.

Edmund and Peter continued to give a blow-by-blow account of the Council Meeting at Lucy’s prompting but Susan tuned out of their exchange, stunned beyond belief. She distractedly weaved her embroidery needle in the fabric and dropped it in the basket by her side, no longer having the heart to continue stitching a cheerful floral design on her new pillowcase.

“Well, I’ll be sad to see him go,” Lucy chimed when their brothers finished. “But I am relieved for Tumnus. I know he was worried when he felt the need to turn down our initial offer.”

“Well, he shan’t worry any more—he was especially relieved after the vote,” Peter said. “We all know how adaptable Sir Peridan is in new locations and situations, having emigrated here to Narnia from Archenland. And he’s proved himself time and time again in Edmund’s Patrol,” he added with a subtle nod towards Edmund’s leg. “And if I can’t have him by my side in the North or at the Telmar border, then there’s no other place I’d rather have him.

“Anyway, there’s no reason to delay. Sir Peridan and a couple of other delegates of his choosing will leave in just a few short weeks. Su, do you think you could gather an impressionable Narnian offering? In lieu of our going there, after all.”

“Of course, Peter. I’m sure we could put together something appropriate,” she said, her voice as hollow as her numbed thoughts.

“Excellent,” Peter leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid the Council was only on a short recess for lunch—we are also discussing the latest updates from Ettinsmoor.” Peter looked back and forth between his sisters. “Will you two be joining us?”

“I suppose I should. I’ll see you in there,” Lucy said, standing and brushing out her skirts before exiting the study.

Peter stood as well, his chair scraping behind him on the tile floor. “Su?”

Susan shook her head. “No. Not today.”

“Coming, Ed?”

Susan looked up and found Edmund watching her closely, brow furrowed in thought. “No, I’ll sit this afternoon out. Besides, I already sent you my full report this morning. On your desk, in your rooms.”

Peter squinted. “This morning already? We just got the news late last night.”

Edmund didn’t bother replying, stifling a yawn instead. Susan thought it was no wonder he looked beyond exhausted.

“Right. Well...do try to get a nap in. The bags under your eyes are unbecoming, and I’m starting to get complaints from the Maples in the northern wing.”

Edmund cracked a quick smile and gave a salute towards his brother.

Susan watched the door shut behind Peter before turning shifting her gaze to Edmund. “I had no idea,” she said. This entire ordeal bothered her more than she cared to admit.

“I only just learned, too, Su,” Edmund offered. “And I think Peridan is just as stunned with how fast things are now moving.”

“Did something happen? Are you two at odds or something?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said, eyebrows raised.

Susan recoiled in her seat. “Why would you say that?”

Edmund lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You seem to speak to him more than I do these days.”

“That’s hardly true. You’ve had him—well, the whole Patrol—out for almost two months straight!”

“I know, I know. But I did see you two on the terrace the other night and thought perhaps he may have said something to you.”

“No. He didn’t say a thing,” Susan said. “What did he say just now? Before you came in?”

He shook his head with a tired sigh. “He just said he had his reasons, and would not go into details. I trust his opinion. I always have. And I trust he will continue to serve Narnia well.” Edmund stood and walked around the table, offering her a hand to stand. “Come along, let’s get to the kitchens for some tea. I’m about ready to fall asleep and I need something stimulating.”

Susan wanted nothing more than to retreat to her rooms for the rest of the afternoon. But she brushed that instinct aside and took his hand. When she let him go, she smoothed her skirts and gathered her sewing basket. “I…I suppose this would be a good as time to poke around the cellars, too, and see if there’s anything to send along with the delegates to Calormen.”

“That’s the spirit, Su,” Edmund said, holding the door open for her. “As long as you don’t tap into the Galman wine supplies.”

Susan shot him a withering look, but hadn’t the heart to think of a snappy response.

* * *

**Grand Hall, Cair Paravel, Narnia. Firstweek June, 1012.**

The buzz of excitement was different from anything Peridan had ever experienced before. There wasn’t that overwhelming sense of dread that sat like a hard lump in his stomach before battle. Nor was it like the intoxicating lightness that filled his head during one of Cair Paravel’s celebrations, or even just a bawdy evening at a village tavern.

Instead, it was an uncomfortable mixture of the two. On one hand, his heart and mind were at ease at making the decision to go through with this break from Narnia. But on the other…

He filed in the front doors of the Grand Hall, leading his delegation composed of a half dozen young soldiers he had mentored in the army that showed promising inclination towards a career in diplomacy. After much debate, it was decided to keep the small party to only humans, with plans of filtering in those of the more “fantastic” nature in the coming months. He much would have preferred his even-headed friend Baris alongside him, but bringing him into the fold would have defeated the purpose…considering it was Tashbaan’s lack of toleration towards fauns that led to this.

On the long walk down the Hall, with Narnians of all shapes and sizes flanking either side of their path in barely-contained excitement, Peridan thought back on the previous two weeks. From the evening that Peridan first inquired about the Narnian Ambassador to Calormen position, to the startling rushed vote of acceptance of his candidacy, to the endless meetings that went late into the night in preparation for not only this day, but for the six years— _six years_ —that he would keep office in Tashbaan… only one moment was on constant repeat in his head.

“I can’t believe this,” Edmund had hissed at him in this same Grand Hall, two weeks previously.

The vote had just taken place, and Peridan’s heart was still reeling from what had so quickly transpired. He had to take a deep breath to keep his voice from wavering. “I hardly believe it myself.”

“Where did this come from, Peridan? Just the other day we were strategizing on our upcoming campaign up in Ettinsmoor. I was depending on having you by my side in dealing with the North.”

“And now you can depend on me to help deal with the South.”

“What’s going on?” Edmund had said. “What’s happened to make you do this?”

“Nothing.”

“I know you, Peridan. You’re not one to rush into something like this,” Edmund had said, his voice louder and starting to echo in the Grand Hall. “Nothing? I’m not buying it.”

“You have to,” Peridan had snapped back. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “I’m sorry. I just…I have my reasons. Please trust me, your Majesty.”

Peridan’s formality with the King had been enough to silence Edmund.

“And I would do anything for Narnia,” Peridan had continued. “I would live or die for her. I love her more than anything. I have to do this, Edmund.”

Edmund had lowered his head in concession. “I understand.”

And that was the one and only time his decision had been questioned.

Peridan shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to the present.

He came to a stop just short of the dais holding the thrones where both Kings and both Queens sat awaiting him and his party. The quiet murmurings of the crowd ceased on their own before King Peter’s hand even had to lift to silence them. Peridan kept his eyes on the High King, not trusting himself to look at either Edmund, his best friend, or Susan, the very reason for his leaving.

High King Peter stood from his throne to address the crowd.

“My fellow Narnians! As you all well know, our friend Mr. Tumnus has served us well over these years, and we thank and celebrate him today. But as we lead into a new chapter for Narnia, one of exploration and diplomacy with our friends and neighbors, we do so with the interest of growth within Narnia as well. We have seen many Narnians, both native and new alike, rise to the occasion as called in these challenging times of a new nation. We are most fortunate that such outstanding examples of character stand before us as they go forth, representing the best that Narnia has to offer.”

King Peter continued with his speech, individually introducing Peridan’s chosen delegates to the crowd. One by one, the chosen men and women’s backgrounds were shared, their merits lauded. One by one, they were asked if they accepted their roles within the Embassy and, one by one, they accepted.

Though Peridan would have preferred nothing more than to have left earlier that morning, or even the night previous to get a day ahead of the potential summer storms that faced eastern Archenland at this time of year, the Narnians loved nothing more than a reason for ceremony and celebration.

This ceremony was merely a formality, for the contract had been signed in the King’s Study earlier that morning. A copy of those papers, along with the layman’s copy of the Book and other important papers, was already bound and packed in his satchel on his horse, awaiting the trip to Tashbaan in the Courtyard. Still, it was reminiscent of the time five years previous, when he stood in this exact same spot and was knighted for his service in saving King Edmund after the horrific injury to his friend’s knee.

Of course, there had been far fewer people that attended that ceremony.

“With that in mind, Sir Peridan, if you would please,” King Peter said, indicating the marble step before him with a gentle sweep of his hand.

Peridan took the few steps forward, the clicks of his heels on the marble echoing around the silent Hall, and went down on one knee before his High King.

It was Peridan’s turn—Peter left no stone unturned when it came to listing all of Peridan’s achievements from when he first arrived in Narnia seven years previously at the tender age of twenty.

Peridan could feel Susan’s eyes upon him as the King went on to list all the duties that Peridan was to take on as ambassador, but Peridan didn’t dare look up farther than King Peter’s knees. He feared losing composure if he looked upon her, though he ached to do so. He had barely seen the Queen in the previous two weeks of days and nights filled with meetings with the Privy Council—meetings that Susan did not to attend. Not a single one.

“Sir Peridan, in the offering of the Official Narnian Ambassador to Calormen, do you accept?” King Peter asked.

“I accept and am truly honored, your Majesty,” Peridan answered. “I do hope to represent Narnia to the best of my abilities and honor my commitments to my true home. I look forward to these upcoming years in Calormen in achieving our goals.”

“Look up, Peridan,” Peter quietly said, and Peridan did so. The King’s blue eyes met his with a hint of mirth before again addressing the crowd.

“In respect to our friends in Archenland, our brother nation to the south—a nation built on the principles and traditions of the Narnia of Old—we have decided to adopt one of their tried and true methods in honoring those most exemplary in characters to their country.”

Prompted by a slight nod, a Black Dwarf approached the dais, a pillow with a velvet-wrapped length balanced upon it. Peter unfolded the cloth, and the flash of light streaming from the glass ceiling bounced off the shiny sword that was uncovered. Peter reverently brought the weapon up in a ceremonial offering before Peridan.

“Sir Peridan, we thank you for your continuing service to Narnia. On behalf of my siblings, and upon the recommendation of my brother, it is with great honor and esteem that I announce that on this day, I grant you the First Lordship of Narnia. The title follows you now, while land and office awaits you upon your return in six years.”

Excited whispers echoed in the chamber behind him, but what stood out most was Susan’s gasp.

“Do you accept?” King Peter asked him for the second time that day.

Peridan looked towards Lucy, her smile filled with pride, then over to Edmund, whose own smile was more enigmatic. The short glance he finally spared for Susan revealed the shock on her face. She had the rug pulled out from under her just as much as he did. Peridan knew the Queen he loved and desired, the Queen who relished in knowing everything and anything that passed in and out of this castle, was reeling.

_She should have attended the meetings. And I should have gone to see her._

“I accept,” Peridan said, his voice steadier than he felt, the implications of what this meant thundering through his mind.

“Then rise,” the king said, holding the sword out to him in offering.

Peridan managed to do so gracefully, despite the shake in his knees and the sweat on his palms as he accepted both the sword and the scabbard that followed.

“I present to you Peridan, First Lord of Narnia,” King Peter called out. “We wish you and your delegates,” he added, nodding to the party behind him, “a safe journey and successful transactions in Calormen.”

The Grand Hall exploded in applause and shouts, barks, squeals, and calls of well wishes, with King Edmund and Queen Lucy standing to wave and lead the cheers.

“To Lord Peridan!”

“To the First Lord of Narnia!”

“Safe travels to Tashbaan, Ambassador Peridan!”

He hesitated—he knew the rest of the delegation had already turned heel and started making their way out of the Great Hall and out into the courtyard where their mounts awaited. The celebratory mob had already started to close in, ushering them on their way with cheers and pats on the back. But Peridan stole the last few seconds he could to look upon his beautiful Queen.

Susan stood up from her throne and took a hesitant step forward, her hand reaching out. He read his own name on her lips more than he heard it above the resounding cacophony of noise in the room and the rushing in his ears. The Queen Susan, she who was most troubled when faced with the unanticipated, was at a loss for any words beyond that.

Peridan, in turn, thought to raise his own hand, but the tail of the crowd jostled him from his position, forcing him to turn and follow the other delegates. Looking over his shoulder proved fruitless, for the throng of people and taller Animals had already blocked the view of the dais.

From there, everything became a jumbled blur: the rustic scent of the new leather from the new scabbard where he sheathed the newly forged sword with the intricately engraved “P” on the hilt…the wall of sound from the crowd, the colorful confetti of flowers tossed upon his party as they passed through the grand doors into the courtyard…the ridiculous cheers coming from Baris and Ferrin, his closest friends in the Patrol, as they balanced precariously on top of the stone walls of the front gate…the sight of his hand-chosen team of delegates seated proudly on their mounts, with excited eagerness playing up on their faces, leading the way out of the courtyard and out on the road to Archenland, and beyond that, to Calormen and Tashbaan itself.

All of that was lost to the one thought that cycled in his head.

_I am Lord Peridan._

This alone had changed everything—and he had just walked away from what his title finally granted him, what he wanted more than anything. Just in time for a long six years in Calormen.

* * *

“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”—Kahlil Gibran

**Author's Note:**

> Aha! Now that this is revealed, I can finally write down some notes!
> 
> This is an excerpt from a long planned story that is part of the Dichotomy Universe. This wonderful prompt landed in my lap, though, and I couldn't NOT write this section from the few notes that I had written in prep quite some time ago. 
> 
> So, in short, this is not the end of this story. More will eventually be revealed. (This is actually a Problem with Susan story in the long run, just not this section!) 
> 
> But considering this longer story is a sequel to the NFE Big Bang I wrote a couple of years ago, which in itself is going through a big overhaul, it may be awhile 'til it comes to its conclusion. Stay tuned! 
> 
> The Crane Dance is inspired by the beautiful Ludovico Einaudi instrumental piece by the same name. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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